


Last Man Standing

by echoslam



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Behind the Scenes, F/M, Speculation about Dangan Ronpa 52, What-If, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoslam/pseuds/echoslam
Summary: Preparations are underway for the 53rd season of Dangan Ronpa, but the one returning participant has no intention of letting things proceed as planned.(Rantaro knew more about the nature of the killing game than he let on. What if he remembered that there was someone he had sworn to protect?)





	Last Man Standing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PranksterComet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PranksterComet/gifts).



“Ready for round two?”

Rantaro Amami slowly opened his eyes at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He forced himself  to sit up on the bed he had been lying in, mind still groggy from being dragged out of a deep slumber. It was then that he noticed the monitors and medical instruments humming nearby.

He looked down the foot of the bed at the girl who had spoken. Something about her frameless glasses and long, flowing hair looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t think from where.  

“Do I know you?” Dry as his throat was, his own voice was barely above a whisper. 

“I see you don’t remember.” She flashed a wide, bright smile that looked not the least bit friendly. 

“Don’t worry. It’ll all come back to you - parts of it, anyway.”

A leaden knot of unease coiled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful had just happened. Or was about to happen. The “it” she was speaking of, could it be that he had wronged someone? The sensation that irked him felt oddly like guilt. It was unnerving how his mind could only draw a blank while something in his conscience seemed to gnaw at him, urging him to recall some bone-deep memory.

“They’re keeping you under observation until tomorrow,” the girl continued, clearly exasperated by his silence. “After that, it’s full speed ahead for Season 53!” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And don’t you even _think_ about trying anything.” 

Rantaro stared mutely, unsure of how to respond. The girl - he still couldn’t recall her name - turned and headed for the door, not bothering with a goodbye.

“Stupid normie....how does someone like that end up as the Ultimate Survivor?” he heard her mutter under her breath as she stepped into the hallway. 

“Bet he won’t last that long a second time.” 

 

* * *

 

As promised, he was dragged from his hospital bed the following morning. The girl, Shirogane (he had finally remembered her name), was apparently tasked with being his handler, a fact about which she complained bitterly as she showed him to his room in the half-constructed dormitory. Rantaro stumbled after her, feeling strangely awkward and unsteady on his feet. She hurriedly shoved a thick paper booklet into his hands just as she was about to leave. He looked down at the bold lettering printed on its cover: Script Treatment - Danganronpa 53: Killing School Semester.

“You’re scheduled to film your perk video next week, once they finish your research lab. Be sure to read the student handbook beforehand, and make sure you don’t say anything you’re not supposed to.” She eyed him warily. Rantaro wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done to get into her bad books, but Shirogane seemed to have nothing but contempt for him. 

“I know you think you’re some kind of hero, but don’t flatter yourself. This time, anything can happen.”

A hero? Him? The idea felt like such a contradiction of the nagging feeling that crept at the back of his mind, and Rantaro was left pondering her words long after she’d gone.

 

* * *

 

He did his best to stay out of the way, watching passively as the structure of a dilapidated school seemed to build itself up almost overnight. Rooms were completed and furnished one by one, and he noted each new addition using the map installed in his handbook. 

The passing days had given him time to think, and more importantly, to remember. At the very least, he recalled who he was: Rantaro Amami, Ultimate Adventurer and volunteer participant in the 52nd Killing Game. 

“Danganronpa 52: Ultimate Killing Cruise!” had been a runaway success, prompting another season to start production almost immediately after the finale had aired...and he was the main attraction. 

It was no wonder that walking felt strange to him; for 12 long weeks, he and 15 others had sailed aboard a luxury ocean liner, taking part in the twisted game he could scarcely believe existed, let alone have a following of millions.  Whether it was through luck or his natural adaptability, he had made it somehow, surviving six rounds of murder and execution before reaching the final judgement.

He remembered the decision he had made. Two left standing. A vote. A choice. Betting on hope not knowing it would mean facing despair again, alone. 

 

* * *

 

One day in the dining hall, he was greeted by a new face.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” The girl looked him in the eyes as she asked, polite but not shy. 

Rantaro, unused to having company here, simply murmured his assent. His new dining companion smiled as she seated herself across from him, and he took note of the dark navy blue of her uniform ensemble. 

“I’m Kaede Akamatsu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

* * *

 

Kaede was a musician, as he quickly learned. From that day forward, she always chose to sit with him whenever she caught him at the table. He wasn’t sure why she bothered. He’d made it a point not to get close to anyone one the set, certainly not the “fresh blood” they introduced as the new cast of the 53rd season. 

Rantaro didn’t feel much like talking, so absorbed was he in his thoughts, but Kaede didn’t seem to mind. She told him about her love of music, her excitement about about meeting her new classmates. Murder and death seemed to be the furthest thing from her mind.

“You mean you aren’t here for the killing game?” he blurted out thoughtlessly, immediately regretting his words as he saw her eyes widen in shock.

“K- killing game?! What are you going on about?”

Rantaro forced an awkward smile as he tried to backpedal.

“Oh um, just a joke. Not a funny one. Sorry.” They laughed together afterward, and for the first time, Rantaro could make himself believe it was all just a morbid fantasy of his imagination - the killing game, the TV show, everything. After all, so much of his memory had yet to return. 

And then they took him to preview the executions.

 

* * *

 

“They wanted an expert opinion,” Shirogane explained. “And you’ve seen plenty of these, haven’t you?”

Team Danganronpa had gone to the trouble of preparing trial versions of each Punishment, complete with effigies to take the place of the convicted. Each one was more torturous than the last, from the galactic hellscape before the Ultimate Astronaut’s fatal crash to the Ultimate Entomologist's grisly impalement. 

But the worst by far was the Ultimate Pianist’s. 

After they let him out of the theater, Rantaro ran back to his room and threw himself down on the bed, urging himself to put what he had seen out of his mind. 

As far he knew, none of his new “classmates” had even the slightest desire to hurt anyone. No one had even called themselves an "Ultimate" anything.  

Surely it was all just a sick joke. 

 

* * *

 

When they met in the dining hall the next day, Kaede showed him her new outfit.

The color and soft textures suited her well, the musical notes on her skirt making a charming accent point. 

“No prizes from guessing what Ultimate ability they gave me!” she announced cheerily. Rantaro stood silent, fear and horror rising in him.  

That night, he tossed and turned as Der Flohwalzer played in his nightmares.

 

* * *

 

 The filming of his survivor perk video took longer than expected, and Rantaro’s back ached from crouching to fit himself into the odd angle of the camera.

His prepared statement kept coming out as more admonishment than explanation, and again and again, the director forced him to start over.

“Forget the sob story and just spit it out!” Shirogane yelled from behind the crew. 

In the end, all he could do was make a single demand of his future self, “You wanted this killing game, so you have to win no matter what.” 

 _Save her_ was what he wanted to say. 

 

* * *

 

Rantaro was at a loss. He couldn’t tell Kaede the truth, not about himself or the so-called Killing Game the two of them had long since established as a joke. Day and night he struggled, asking himself what to do to bring an end to all this. 

On the day her research lab was completed, she invited him to visit as her very first audience. The room had a calm, relaxing feel to it, so different from the nightmarish puzzle box that was his own.  

She showed him her collection of recordings and library of sheet music, the passion for her art obvious in every movement. Just as she was was about to take her place at the grand piano, Rantaro placed a hand on her arm, gently moving her to towards him. Guided by some unspoken impulse, he leaned down and brought his face close to hers. He stopped just short of kissing her, wondering if he had been too bold.

A heartbeat later, a thrill ran though him as he felt her close the gap between their lips.

She turned her head quickly, trying to hide her blush, but Rantaro could easily spot the flush of pink on her cheeks.  He languidly took a seat on the chair she had set beside the piano, internally reveling in how adorable she looked. 

After taking a moment to compose herself, Kaede once again put her hands to the keys.

“Have you heard ‘Raindrop Prelude’? It’s one of my favorites,” she stammered, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“It would be an honor to hear it played by someone as charming and beautiful as yourself,” he said, trying his best to sound smooth. He chuckled softly as she blushed even deeper but silenced himself at the first chord.   

No sound or instrument had ever moved him like this. Not before knowing her. 

He listened with eyes closed to the music as it reached a crescendo. Faster. Louder. Darker. As she played, he could practically feel the rain falling on his shoulders. 

A storm, he thought, marveling once again at Kaede’s talent. 

An icy dread gripped Rantaro’s heart as he watched her fingers dance across the keys. 

A storm _was_ coming, one that would drag them all down into despair once again.  

Someone had to act. 

He gave her a standing ovation when she was done, his solitary clapping seeming especially loud amid the finely-tuned acoustics of the room.  

“There’s no need for for that,” Kaede’s expression was bashful. She turned back to the piano but was stopped by Rantaro’s hand on her shoulder.  

“If you’re tired of Chopin, I can always...” 

“No, it’s not the music,” Rantaro smiled gently down at her. “I could listen to you play forever.”

Even if it was too late for him, he would take her away from all this. 

“Trust me,” he said quietly as he got her to stand. 

He took her by the wrist, and together they ran out of the room, down the stairs and through the entrance hall into the vast courtyard, piles of dirt still marking the unfnished lawn. There wasn’t a person in sight.

They kept running further and further, towards the edge of the high vaulted cage that imprisoned them within the grounds. 

What lay beyond? Forests? A wasteland?  Whatever there was, he was wasn’t afraid. He was a survivor, and he knew he’d do anything to keep her safe. 

The two of them ran until they reached a line of trees, seemingly the last boundary before the outer wall. They were both out of breath, the  pounding of their heartbeats ringing in their ears.

Surely there would be a door somewhere along that wall, to the outside world, to freedom. Rantaro slowed his pace, letting go of Kaede’s wrist to let her catch her breath as he ambled on ahead.

“I think we’re almost-,”

Seemingly from out of nowhere, a vast metallic mass crashed into the ground before him nearly toppling them both over.

 He held his ground as the mass unfurled, revealing the form of a gigantic robotic creature as it extended its mechanical limbs in a gesture that could only be a threat.  Stunned from the shock, Rantaro could only stare at the letters emblazoned on the crest above its head:

EXISAL 

A second crash sounded, and Rantaro quickly looked behind him as he felt the gentle pressure of Kaede’s back against his own.

Another mech, almost identical to the first, had dropped, closing off the way from which they had come. 

The two Exisals whirred and clattered as their arms shifted, exposing gatling gun barrels aimed and ready to shoot. 

He felt Kaede take a hold of his hand, her touch making him feel brave once again.  

A voice rang out from the machine before him, giddy and mocking. Shirogane? No, but he had heard it before, something he remembered from the darkest depths of his memory.  

“Upupupu!~ Looks like we have ourselves a troublemaker! You’re gonna have to pay for breaking the rules!”

Rantaro took a deep breath as he stood tall, squaring his shoulders, and he sensed Kaede do the same as they stood back-to-back in the line of fire. 

He braced himself for pain, for the summary execution he was certain would follow. 

Instead, a blinding flash of light, strangely familiar, enveloped his vision. 

He swore he could hear a rippling high-pitched squeal, like an old-fashioned cassette tape being rewound too quickly.

 _Don’t forget her_ he commanded himself, as his consciousness faded to black.

  


* * *

  


From the moment he laid eyes on her again, it was clear that she didn’t remember a thing. 

“My name is Rantaro Amami. I can’t remember my Ultimate talent at the moment...but I promise, I’m not a bad guy. Nice to meet ya.” He feigned nonchalance as best he could while watching for her reaction. 

The smile she gave him seemed genuine but guarded. Perhaps he’d been too glib. It was obvious she wasn’t ready to open up to him just yet, choosing instead to defer to Saihara. He felt the slightest twinge of jealousy at how quickly she had formed a duo with their classmate. 

This time around, he’d have to play his cards just right, get her to trust him the way she had once before. He wanted nothing more than for her to believe in him again...to realize he was on her side. 

Together, he knew they could win. 


End file.
